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my-article-cloud · 1 year

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What we can learn from the darker days

December 21st is the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year and considered to be a time of rebirth for the sun. This time of year, leading up to daylights savings, is hard for so many of us because of the shorter days, the cold, and the innate desire to hibernate vs. do.

It is easy to feel gloomy and down on ourselves because we experience a decrease in productivity and motivation when the sun goes away so early in the day.

Be gentle with yourself through this time. Cultivate self-compassion. It’s okay to feel this way. It is also okay to reframe the darkness. Hibernation serves just as much purpose as action.

This is a season of rest. All that blossomed in the Spring, grew into fullness in the Summer, and was harvested in the Autumn now needs rest and stillness in order to regerminate and prepare for the cycle to begin again.

We asked our therapists at Whole Connection how they like to spend their time during this season and here is what they had to say:

“Curl up with my fur-babies and watch Making It or Great British Bake Off - two shows that just make me feel good. And, to be honest, I love watching other people be creative and productive when all I want to do is stay in bed and drink hot coffee. Cooking warm and delicious meals for my family and friends, then playing my favorite card game, Nertz, while having a fire going. I’ve also been pouring through some novels by Toni Morrison, Octavia Butler, and Tomi Adeyemi. Putting Queen on at full volume and belting so loud with Freddy Mercury that I almost lose my voice - that’s what it takes for me to clean my house this time of year. I also follow “Nap Ministry” on Instagram and try to take opportunities to rest when I can. Reminding myself that resting is key to my health and well-being and that it is totally okay to have a season of hibernation.”

Picking up a favorite book to read and wrapping up in a fuzzy blanket with m

favorite cup of tea. Playing Scrabble with a loved one. Covering my house in twinkly lights and candles and watching them flicker against the dark sky. Playing my piano and singing to myself and my cat. Cooking my favorite meal and inviting a good friend over to share it with me

Sitting in front of a fireplace with a book. Playing in the snow with my dog. Enjoying night hikes with friends. Lots of warm cooked meals, soups, stews, and chilis.

Time in with myself to journal and feel my feels. Go to the gym and pretend like

it’s dark because it’s early in the morning and I’m a badass. Full permission to shamelessly cancel plans and go into introvert mode. Watching my favorite shows (I don’t rewatch Grey’s anatomy YOU rewatch Grey’s anatomy!) Doing a jigsaw puzzle. Learning a new crock pot recipe and prepping it in the morning so I come home to something delicious. Also lots of hot tasty beverages - golden milk lattes, cacao with maple syrup, herbal tea, etc. Bundle up and put on a head-light and headphones for a frosty walk around the neighborhood.

Snuggling with my sons, my dog, and my heating pad while watching independent films in Portuguese, which remind me that we are not alone in both our suffering and our boundless love. Doing extremely intentional brain busting physical therapy exercises and healing my body while listening to Odessa. Wearing summer clothes under my coat, and then peeling off the layers to lose myself in dancing salsa with sweaty salsa peeps.

Appreciating something that I’ve always taken for granted. Immersing myself in a moment of self-compassion. Sending a sweet, random text to somebody I haven’t connected with in a while. Reserving time to do absolutely nothing. Donating clothes to make room for more thrift store gems. Striking up a conversation with a stranger at the grocery store (bonus points if it’s in the cheese section). Ignoring everyone at the grocery store. Printing out photos of my cats, framing them, and gifting them. Taking a joy ride with the music way up. Reading poetry with a loved one and discussing our thoughts. Moving all the furniture in the living room and dancing with myself. Reminding myself that this life is just a ride.

What are your most restful and rejuvenating activities? How can you relish the darker days?

We hope this brings you permission to relish, rest, rejuvenate and relax! If you’d like added support during these literal (and maybe also figurative) dark times please reach out to Whole Connection where we can set you up with one of our therapists or provide referrals. Read more..

#therapy in boulder co

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strangestcase · 2 years

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I would like to hear about your dragons :)

Basically in my urban fantasy universe there’s this thing called Ley Lines- don’t be fooled, they aren’t always literal lines, geometrical, or straight. A Ley Line might as well be a family, a place, or a time frame!

(compare and contrast with IRL ley lines. This is a fantasy world which means I get to mess with as many occult concepts as I please.)

Ley Lines, over the course of millennia, can “corrupt” animals and turn them into stuff like unicorns, basilisks, etc, in some sort of sped up parody of biology, with the kicker that these creatures dont even need to make sense to exist. hence why unicorns are carnivorous ungulates and have glitter for blood. With dragons it is the same- but it only happens when Ley Lines are particularly charged, and particularly powerful. So any random animal caught in such a strong magical “flare” will turbo-evolve and become very fucked up. Kind of like how radioactivity works in old science fiction movies, but with magic. A singular animal, or its family, or its bloodline, might end up as something else entirely.

A carp whose river is on itself a Ley Line could become a long Chinese dragon, sprouting legs and horns and growing to a ridiculous size. A worm whose dirt is caught on a vertical ley line could become a lindworm. And a bird who flies often over that vertical line might become an amphitere. A snake whose nest is located near a family whose bloodline is a ley line can end up having children whose children have children that over generations accumulate enough subtle changes and turn into an entire wyvern. Drakes are literal drakes (waterfowl), tarasques are hedgehogs grown to impossible size, things such as the Loch Ness Monster used to be prehistoric animals until a ley line surge hit, and hydras are many water critters fused together in ungodly communion.

Other than looking very weird and alien and not at all how humans often envision dragons (between the limitations of their art style and the Veil that hides supernatural phenomena, it’s hard to be accurate about these sort of being….), dragons are very attuned to the wild magic that made them be, well, dragons, and have very unique adaptations as a result. Some can perfectly mimic human speech, but only speak in riddles. Some have magically bullshitted a biological flamethrower in their mouths that works partly on stomach acid, partly on “if you think it works, it works”. They tend to hoard trash and eat anything that moves in their vicinity, and can live for many years, even centuries.

Killing dragons is reasonably difficult, but their accelerated mutations have not only granted them very implausible alien anatomy- their brains accumulate hard, stone-like crystallized tumors over time, and those are as valuable as gemstones for obvious “you have to kill a fucking dragon” reasons); their eggs, if they do lay them, are beautiful like pearls; if they are mammals, then their milk can be harvested (and dragon cheese is… particularly spicy); they can be trained to look after buildings and treasure troves (good luck convincing a dragon those useless piles of gold are as good as their beloved trash!); their scales, quills, furs, feathers, membranes, claws, teeth, and growths all have magical proprieties (some say their teeth can be planted on the ground like seeds, and grow into more dragons); their heart still beats after their death (unless it is heavily damaged); their blood makes humans understand animals upon consumption if it’s magically induced toxins don’t kill the poor sod first. basically dragons are the irradiated mutant animals of the magical world and “dragon” is just a blanket term for all the drakes, wyverns, and whatnots Ley Lines make of unsuspecting critters. It seems humans are immune to dragonification… though i wouldnt advise you to be near a particularly powerful, active Ley Line. You might get kidnapped by the Fair Folk and if dragons are the irradiated mutant animals of the magical world, fairies are the mobsters of the magical world. Or maybe, maybe, a witch might think you’re treading on their property and turn you into a frog… or worse, demand you.

#doc talks #dragons #urban fantasy #urbanverse #long post

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elliethesuperfruitlover · 3 years

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Dew Covered Rose

A/N: So we’re ignoring the fact that I haven’t written in like......two, three months. I honestly just haven’t felt like it, and my brain has been busy thinking about writing, or getting back to my daydreams, or thinking about Midnight. Comfort character tingz. But yeah, I’m bringing Topazi back (i also forgot when juneteenth was, I was supposed to do something for her then, I missed the day, but here I made up for it :) This is mild hurt/comfort, except my OC is tired, not hurt. Also this is probably time to mention that Topazi is a gardener, and goes to clients houses to plant things for them! Enjoy!

Tag List: @joz-stankovich, @misskittysmagicportal, @badsext, @super-unpredictable98, @the-freckled-luba, @magic-multicolored-miracle, @ghouls-buddy, @maerenee930, @frogs--are--bitches, @neuroticpuppy, @forenschik, @bisexualnathanyoung, @robert-sheehan, @firstpersonnarrator, @salvador-daley

Warnings: kinda unsafe driving bc sleep deprivation, brief mentions of nudity, swearing

Topazi had a bit of a tiring day. The house that she’d been working at had almost no shade. The customers were as nice as they could be.....but it seemed as though every tulip that she planted correctly, they would request it to be put in a different place. Even though there was an extremely limited amount of space that she had to work with. It was very frustrating to her, to be honest. However, she got the job done. It took hours of her digging things back up and wiping sweat off of her face to be happy with the result. She was sure to make sure that everything was as good as it could be before the left for home. Even the thought of having to get back in her car and do something other than cuddle up and or sleep was killing her.

It was late into the night, and the owl in the front yard stared at her as she pulled into the driveway, eyes barely open. She took multiple deep breaths and rubbed a calloused hand over her face before stepping out of the car, not even bothering to take her tools out of the trunk. She trudged her way into the house, carefully unlocking the door, as to not disturb Klaus, who should’ve been close to sleep, or in bed at that point. She tossed the keys into the bowl by the door, and hung her coat up, silently grimacing at the soreness already developing in her arms.

Not having the energy to call out to Klaus, she walked into the kitchen, finding one of the cats on top of the kitchen island, fast asleep. A small smile found its way onto her face as she gently pet it, smoothing down the fur on top of her face. She made her way over to the fridge, which she opened, very slowly, to find leftovers of spaghetti that Klaus had cooked for himself. She could never stand the noodles and sauce together, so she looked around for more things. Canned soup in the pantry....she’d have to heat it up, and she needed something instant. Juice wouldn’t be filling enough. She began to nod off, looking at the fridge once more, and she found a solution that she’d looked over. A sandwich.

“Thank fuck for bread.” she thought to herself as she grabbed the bologna, mayonnaise, and cheese slices from their respective spots before grabbing a knife and paper towel. By the time she put the bread back, her sleep levels had reached almost the maximum, and she began nodding off, head on the side of the fridge. She quickly came to her senses, and trotted back over to the island, joints creaking.

She sat down on one of the stools on the kitchen island. (”Klaus, I need the stools, if my legs don’t look like a pretzel, I’m not sitting correctly.”) As she took a bite of her sandwich (crust first), her brain decided to shut down temporarily, and she almost fell asleep eating. The suds episode of Spongebob Squarepants, however, prevented her from doing so. She slowly ate the sandwich, grateful for the purpose that it served. After she finished her first bite, however, she completely knocked out. The cat woke up, looking at her owner, before hopping off of the counter, and walking up the stairs.

Klaus had heard Topazi come home, but it’d been a while since he heard her open the fridge last, so he went to check on her. He avoided Minnie on the steps (as in Minnie Riperton, not the mouse) and walked into the kitchen, to find his lover fast asleep, small snores coming from her mouth. He smiled, almost letting a chuckle past his lips when he realized his task.

“She looks fucking wasted.” he thought, before gently shaking her awake, resulting in a groan of annoyance.

“Come on T, you gotta get to bed.” he whispered, rubbing her back. She leaned against his chest, and shook her head into it, too tired to utter a rebuttal.

Klaus chuckled lightly, and put Topazi’s used paper towel in the trash can, and her utensils in the sink, to be washed when he eventually came back down for his late night (and sometimes morning) snack. He gently picked her up, leaning down to press a small kiss to her forehead. He thought back simply how much he just loved her. He didn’t know how, as he said that “I can’t fall for someone completely. At least not again.” but he did. Although, it wasn’t completely all at once though.

Klaus made his way up the steps (once more avoiding Minnie), and into their shared bedroom where he gently laid Topazi down on the bed. He figured that she may want to be clean when she slept as well, but was somewhat confused how he was to go about the entire “my partner is half asleep and I’d hate to disrespect her boundaries”. So, he settled on simply getting rid of her outer clothes, and bra, then placing nightie over her form. It was one of the newer ones she’d bought. She would go on and on about how “there’s tiny flowers on this nightgown Klaus, I need to buy it”.....ah he loves Topazi with all of his heart.

He gently tucked his lover into bed, making sure that she’s close enough to her phone that she won’t be grouchy about having to move from her spot in order to reach it. Topazi stirred in her slumber, but only a bit, and Klaus went down to the kitchen for his meal, which was going to be a good old fashioned lover boy nutter butter. Klaus thought back to when he first met Topazi as he ate his sandwich. It had been right after he met his....other siblings...like other other siblings. She was quietly sitting in a coffee shop, where she had her knees to her chest, reading a book. She was deep in concentration, but when Klaus found nowhere to sit, he had no choice but to ask her. (or to leave the shop and drink his hot chocolate elsewhere, but nah)

“Um, can I sit here?” he asked, pointing to the seat. She nodded her head without looking up, making a small noise of affirmation at the back of her throat. Klaus sat in the booth across from her, his shoes making a squeaky noise on the tile below. He awkwardly crosses his legs, taking small sips of the drink.

“What are you reading?” he asked, eyebrows quirked upwards. She gently lifted her book, and it read “The Human Anatomy, Down to the Bone Cell” He hmmed in acknowledgement, and resorted to looking out of the window.

The drops of rain raced each other on the windowsill, determined for few seconds at a time, only to puddle together in the end. Klaus stared at a single corner outside, where nobody seemed to be walking over. It was the crack where the sidewalk met the much smaller border of the sidewalk. He watched the rainwater trickle into it, and he felt himself start to zone out. But that was alright...he needed time to think.

This, in turn, was perfect for Topazi to stop reading her book and stare at this stranger. New people aren’t really her thing, as they’re usually below her standard of who she liked keeping in her circle. She peered at the way his curls were somewhat tussled, like he’d been caught in a windstorm of some sort. (Although it’s been rainy all day, no wind whatsoever.), she thought to herself. His eyes were beautiful, but so tired, it seemed. Wonderful shade of green, she thought, too. She pondered the different shades of green that she could remember, which lead to her thinking of the floating diamond of Sims’ characters. (plumbob, she repeated, overenunciating the first syllable). She went back to the thought at hand, and looked at the hand clutching the cup of hot chocolate, still seeming to be warm to the touch, judging by the steam coming from the mouthpiece of the top.

His hand was veiny, somewhat red, (maybe because of the heat). His fingers looked very pale though, almost as if they’d recently been subjected to extreme cold, or flashes of it. (the rain, she thought) His chest was partially exposed due to the.....vest that he was wearing (maybe he’s some sort of performer, he does have a cowboy hat) She paid more attention to his face, also tired, and glanced at his lips, but only for a moment, as she didn’t need to get exceedingly horny in a public space over a complete stranger.....again. She softly gasped when he looked back at her, and she softly smiled, getting back to her book.

“Were you just staring at me?” Klaus asked, looking back at her.

“Yes.” she replied, eyes skimming over her paragraph on metacarpals. She had a fleeting thought to wiggle her hand in front of her face in order to properly label everything, but she could do that back at home.

“Why?” he asked, his tone giving off the fact that he wasn’t in fact upset, just curious.

“Eye contact isn’t my favorite thing, neither is small talk, especially if I’m preoccupied, so I sometimes stare at people in order to get a better understanding of them.” she explained, glancing at Klaus.

“Oh, well, don’t mind me then. I won’t bother you.” he said, looking at the table. Topazi put her book facedown on the table, apologizing.

“You’re fine! You didn’t try to talk to me, and you respected me when I didn’t reply with the name of my book, verbally at least. I like that.” she replied, deciding to look Klaus in the eye.

“Oh, thank you. Care to tell me why you’re reading about human cells?” he teased, a smirk coming to his lips. Topazi panicked for a moment, because she thought “fuck....he’s a charmer”

She did tell him about why she was reading about human cells. And why she kept scratching a portion of the book as she read. He even noticed how she bit her lip when she read, which lead him to think that she was actually reading some sort of cell erotica, only to remember what she had previously told him. They talked for hours, it seemed. For once, Topazi found someone that she could talk to and not get tired. Interests, parents, everything (maybe a bit too much). They eventually had to separate, but not after giving each other their numbers, and Klaus found a small feeling of joy in his chest as he walked out of the coffee shop. He walked back into the Hargreeves (uh.....Sparrow) mansion with a small smile on his face. His face hurt, not from too much sun, or biting his lips too much. From pure excitement and joy, he found. Bubbling out of him, steamrolling its way out into the open. His fists shook in glee, and he squealed, and he didn’t care. For once. He needed something good, and she was it. Beautiful Topazi. Wonderful Topazi. That’s the answer.

Klaus came back to his senses as he realized that some of the marshmallow fluff had leaked its way onto the counter where he scooped it up with a finger, tempted to put it into his mouth. A few moments of thinking gave him his decision. He imagined Topazi’s look of disgust when she caught him doing that once, and stuck his finger under the tap for a few moments, wiping the water off on his bare thigh. He finished his sandwich, and went back upstairs (once again avoiding Minnie). He snuggled next to his partner in bed, breathing in deeply. Yeah....she’d need a bit of a shower when she woke up, but that’s alright. That’s alright though. She would spend the rest of the day at home, to rest from being on her feet and knees for hours the previous day. And he’d tell her how important and beautiful she is, and think about how he’d almost went to the pizza shop across the street. But he didn’t. And he chose right, so right. With no regrets, for the first time he could think of in a while.

Masterlist

#topazi marshall #topazi x klaus #klaus hargreeves x oc #tua fanfic

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echo-of-sounds · 3 years

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bnha original characters

This is less about the characters themselves and more about their quirks, their strengths, weaknesses, and the like. I only included Ursa and Cujo in this from anxiety bear.

I might make more about Quick Comfort’s reader, some side characters, and villains to explore their quirks further. Let me know if you’d like to read about more characters! I liked doing this!

anxiety bear’s reader

Hero Name: Ursa (Latin; bear)

Quirk: Arctotherium

She can transform into an Arctotherium angustidens (an extinct genus of South American short-faced bear). A secondary effect of her quirk is her enhanced senses.

Height: on all fours, she’s 5’11ft at the shoulder (perfect height for biting people right in the jugular); on her hind legs, she’s 12ft

Weight: around 2,900 pounds

Hero Costume: It’s made out of simple, relaxed, and breathable clothing. To nullify her heightened smell, she has a mask. It’s a small, specialized respirator that filters even the tiniest odor. After she uses her quirks, she needs food, so there’s a small pocket on her thigh that she keeps filled with protein bars. For cold weather, she adds a cloak.

Strengths:

Ursa’s sheer mass and weight benefit her, making her difficult to knock/jar, a powerful hitter, and becomes quite the tank when she gets charging. Running up to 45mph at long distances, she’s easily able to break through walls, catch those trying to escape, and escape herself if necessary. She relies mostly on her senses of hearing (which exceeds frequencies humans can hear) and smell (which is about 2,000 times greater than a human’s).

Her fur, dark brown in color, provides protection against impact and some claws/knives due to its thickness. It is not impenetrable. Enough force behind the weapon can spear through her fur.

For offense, her claws and teeth are her main weapons. Her paws are about 1.2 feet (not including her claws). Her claws are around 4 inches. As with other bears, they aren’t actually that sharp. She just has enough power behind her swing to cause damage no matter their acuteness. It’s enough to knock the wind out of someone.

Weaknesses:

She can’t talk while in bear form. She can hear, but being unable to communicate back can cause difficulties while working in teams.

While Ursa’s enhanced senses prove useful in many cases, they’re also her main weakness. Overloading her senses is a sure-fire way to force her unconscious, incapacitated, or to unshift. Smell is the quickest and easiest to overtax, especially with acrid, bitter, and sharp scents. Hearing and sight are next: with high-pitched noises, inaudible by the average human, and deep, bass sounds that rumble her bones; and with bright lights, flashing ones are the worst.

Because of her sensitivities, she acts more like a powerhouse for brief fights. If she’s in one too long, the greater the chances of her becoming overwhelmed. She’s more of a hindrance than anything if she gets overwhelmed.

Quirk Side Effects/Other Info:

Ursa’s senses are still enhanced when she isn’t in bear form. It mimics Sensory Processing Disorder. Her mask helps with her sense of smell. For sight, she has glasses that block out the wavelengths that irritate her eyes the most. For hearing, she has hearing hampers. They work the opposite of hearing aids; instead of amplifying noises/pitches, they dampen them before sending the soundwaves into the ear.

After exerting a certain amount of energy while using her quirk, her body rapidly depletes its resources. The protein bars in her costume help while she’s on patrol. After intense fights, she needs much more than the snacks, often choosing chicken breast topped with fried eggs on any combination of rice, steak, vegetables, and cheeses (she refuses to eat any type of seafood or beans, hating the smell, taste, and texture in her mouth).

Although she tends to ignore this part, she goes through a sort of ‘heat’ like bears do. It starts around mid-May and lasts till early July. She spends more time inside during it.

Quirk Malfunction:

Shifting in and out of her bear form isn’t always a smooth process. Changing is typically easy as her body is reverting into its natural state; she just relaxes, let’s go, and it happened. It’s quick, and she hardly has to try. Sometimes, when she’s exhausted, injured, or otherwise overwhelmed, parts of her body may not revert properly.

Here’s an example from when she was eight (this is a condensed/slightly modified version of the explanation I gave in anxiety bear):

She couldn’t remember what was overwhelming. Something just hurt. She couldn’t move or do anything. So she started panicking. When she shifted back, her face felt horrible. It felt as if her skin was being stretched and her bones were warped. She screamed. Her dad came outside, wrapped a towel around her face, picked her up, and brought her to the hospital.

Her facial bones didn’t properly shift. In our maxilla, we have an infraorbital foramen which is the opening to the infraorbital canal. It transmits a nerve, vein, and artery. Bears also have this, but their anatomy is different. The important difference, in this case, is their maxilla and mandible length due to their muzzles. Human skulls are relatively flat in comparison.

When Ursa shifted, her maxilla remained long like a bear’s (about four inches). Her upper canines were still large and pointing outward. At the hospital, X-Rays showed her infraorbital canal was shoved forward. Because it was only her maxilla that malfunctioned, her nerves and arteries were stretched almost to the point of ripping as they were still fit for a human. She couldn’t talk or see and could hardly smell.

To fix it whenever this happens, she needs to be given Tizanidine. It’s a skeletomuscular relaxant with antispastic agents. It slows the brain and nervous system’s activity to let your muscles relax. Her body will eventually fix itself.

Kuma (reader’s brother in anxiety bear)

Hero Name: Cujo (From the Stephen King story. He prefers the film because of the more optimistic ending.)

Quirk: Arctotherium

Kuma’s quirk is very similar to his sister’s. He can transform into an Arctotherium angustidens. A secondary effect of his quirk is enhanced senses. However, they aren’t as enhanced as Ursa’s.

Height: He stands at 6’1ft on all fours and 14 feet on his hind legs

Weight: around 3,200 pounds

Hero Costume: Much like his sister, his costume is relaxed and comfortable clothing. He also has a mask to filter smells (but uses it less frequently than Ursa) and a pocket on his thigh for protein snacks.

Strengths:

Cujo shares many strengths and weaknesses with Ursa, mainly thick fur for protection, sharp teeth, and long claws. One difference is that he has more mass and weight to his advantage. It makes him a heavier hitter, able to cause more damage in less amount of time. And since his senses aren’t as sensitive, he doesn’t have to worry about becoming overwhelmed as much as Ursa does. These factors allow him to hit harder, last longer in fights, and take in more sensory input.

He’s willing to fight dirty and bloody to win (though some believe that to be a weakness) With his size, he’s able to sustain quite a bit of damage without it hindering him. A bullet to the side or a slash to his back would incapacitate an average human/someone of a smaller size. He’d barely feel the bullet, let alone have to worry about it.

Weaknesses:

The burden of Kuma’s weight takes a toll on his body. Bones undergoing shifting, sometimes grinding against one another, the sudden and intense weight changes, and stress on his muscles often lead to aches and pains. He’s gotten accustomed to it as he’s trained and grown-up. Some preventive measures are: taking pain medication before going on patrol, wearing compression sleeves under his costume, hot baths, and cold compresses.

Due to his size, he requires a higher amount of protein than his sister. And the longer a fight is combined with how much energy he exerts, the quicker his body exhausts. He’s built for dealing damage as hastily and as fiercely as possible. If a fight occurs while he’s on patrol, he’s done after the fight, needing a great deal of protein before his body gives, typically going for seafood and/or steak. If he doesn’t get the protein in time, he’ll faint, suffering from a sudden onset of severe protein deficiency, and need medical attention.

This doesn’t have to do with the fighting part of a Hero’s career, but he is not kid-friendly, often caught swearing on camera, shoving cameras and reporters out of his space, and sometimes picking fights with other Heroes and interviewers he doesn’t like. It makes his popularity suffer.

Quirk Side Effects/Other Info:

Kuma’s senses aren’t enhanced enough to be considered a weakness, but they do cause significant stress in his daily life, notably touch and feel. Textures, high temperatures, and others touching him are what irritates him the most. His reaction is less distress (like Ursa’s is) and more anger at the cause.

It’s not proven, but his quirk seems to affect his personality a bit. He’s very protective of his sister and very prepared to snap (with his mouth as a warning sign) at anyone who he doesn’t know and/or doesn’t like.

From mid-May till early July, Kuma also goes through a heat. Unlike his sister, who’s timid and resistant when it comes to socializing, he’s very brash, impulsive, and sometimes aggressive, going to bars throughout those months, choosing any man or woman piques his interest enough to go home with.

Quirk Malfunction:

Kuma also undergoes the same bodily malfunction as his sister. It happens to him more often due to the strain on his body and its need for large quantities of protein. The ladder is usually the reason for a malfunction (kind of like biological short-circuiting).

Picture of an Arctotherium for reference:

Link for photo: https://www.theguardian.com/science/gallery/2018/jun/11/when-size-does-matter-big-beasts-last-of-the-giants-in-pictures

#bnha #bnha oc #my ocs #bnha quirks #quirk thoughts #boku no hero academia #anxiety bear

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nightsonights · 4 years

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sleeve- z.k.

masterlist

summary: zion gets his sleeve and doesn’t forget about you ;)

warnings: the slightest smut, absolute fluff

authors note: i’m back! feels like i haven’t posted in forever. remember, my inbox is open to requests (might take me a little bit to write them but regardless). enjoy!

•••

i sat in hypnotic daze at the squint inducing LED display of the TV. my manicured hand reached into the polymer bag to retrieve another corn-baked snack.

the credits quickly rolled from the current episode of grey’s anatomy; netflix inquiring of my current engagement. my hand retreated in disappointment as it gave up its search through the empty reminiscence of cheese dust and polypropylene.

i reached for the remote when i caught sight of the orange dust that had seeped into the creases of my fingerprint. i mentally scolding myself at the pigsty state i had afflicted upon myself.

the cheese dust fingers. the wrappers hang daintily on the foggy glass of the coffee table. the unconscious awareness of elapsed time watching Netflix.

deciding enough was enough, i lifted my weight from the plump cushions of my couch and carried myself to the kitchen sink.

i towered over the silver faucets lining the sink and switched them on in opposite positions. i laundered my hands with the fruity soap nearby, rubbing over the small tattoos lining the length of my fingers.

i smiled to myself as i recalled the mocking tone of zion on the topic of tattoos earlier that morning.

~~~

/“mY fInGeRs taTs lOok dOpe”/

“stop! they slap bro!” i protested, playfully hitting his bicep.

“tHey SLaP brO.” zion threw his head back as he giggled at his playful derisive.

“you’re so annoying”

“i’m just joking witchu. i think your tattoos are... okay” he sided, shrugging his shoulders in comprise-able comprehension.

i let out a short scoff at his lack of impression. “you’re one to talk, flower boy” i teased, referring to the tattooed rose that stood out on the bare of zion’s forearm.

“okay talk your shit now but when i get my sleeve, it’s gonna be hard,” he rubbed his biceps in a boastful manner, “harder than your little finger tats.”

~~~

i washed over the palms of my hands once more before letting the transparent liquid seep through the slips between my fingers. the orange artificial cheese hugged the drops of water and together they slithered down the drain.

i quickly retreated to the living room with clean hands and the full intention to continue my sinful Netflix marathon.

as i plopped onto the faux fur decorative throw blanket that lined the couch, the house alarm indicated that someone had entered.

“kaliyah?” zion called out, his voice vibrating throughout the empty spaces of the house.

“i’m in the living room!”

within a few silent footsteps, zion towered over the loose-cushion back of the couch. his large palms fell to the board of my shoulders; massaging his fingertips into the slips of my scapula.

i melted into his touch, reaching to direct his hands to my most pained areas. i let out a sigh as his hands left my shoulder blades; leaning down to plant a small peck on the soft of my cheek.

“hey baby. how was your day?” he inquired.

“it was good, just catching up on grey’s” i replied, tilting my head up admirably at my boyfriend.

my eyes traced venerably over his attractive features. the curtain of platinum blond locs that hung over his dark, passionate eyes. the loose fitting graphic tee that lightly brushed against his muscle structure.

my examination travelled to his arms, my breath suddenly hitching in my throat at the recognition of the plastic wrap encasing his arm.

“um, z? what’s going on with your arm?” i inquired; eyebrow furrowed as i studied the series of cartoon characters dotting his upper and lower limb.

“oh this? i went to get some ink after work” he acknowledged, glancing down at the fresh puncture of pigment.

“some ink? z, it’s your whole arm. come here, let me see” i urged, patting the spot on the couch next to me.

zion circled around the arm of the long upholstered seating place, plopping down onto the cushion. i gently extended his arm, examining the intricate piercings of the fictional personas.

“it’s just an outline. i have to go back for some shading this week” zion protested, watching nervously as i took in the intricacy of the fictional artistry.

“why didn’t you tell me?” i inquired, my bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

“why? do you not like it?”

i glanced up into his doubtful eyes. “yeah, it’s dope. for a nintendo colouring book.”

i let out a series of unrestricted giggles as zion rolled his eyes dismissively. he sheepishly bit the inside of his cheek; attempting to suppress the laugh threatening to slip past his lips.

“haha good one,” he passively brushed off,” but seriously, do you think it’s okay?”

“yeah baby, it’s hot. id fuck you”i shrugged.

“you’d fuck me huh?” zion challenged.

his large hands groped the soft of my thighs; fingers lightly dancing along the bare of my inner thigh.

“hmm” i hummed, catching onto his salacious proposal and holstering my leg over his pelvis.

zion hooked his finger underneath my chin and slowly reeled my lips onto his fleshy embodiment of love. the kiss left me lightheaded at its simplicity; zion teeth tugging at my bottom lip as he pulled away.

his lips parted to form a sentence but i quickly reunited our moment of fervent inclination. the tension from whatever he needed to say disintegrated as i shifted closer to him; deepening the kiss.

his body hitched forward; lips trying to mirror the hunger found in mine. i gently placed my hands on his chest, signalling him to stop.

“we should go to the room” i suggested, thinking about the tedious work a cum stain would leave on the couch.

i excitedly lifted myself from his lap, reaching for the remote to turn off the tv.

“kaliyah, hold on” zion pleaded, reaching toward to catch my wrist.

“what? i mean, we could do it on the floor but i mean the bed would be more comforta-“

“no, it’s not that” zion interrupted, half smiling at my enthusiasm.

“then what’s wrong?” i inquired.

“i have something to show you” he voiced, ushering me to have a seat.

“okay?” i giggled cautiously at zion’s sudden serious tone.

“don’t be mad at me okay?” zion preferenced, his smile nervously twitching.

zion proceeded to tilt his head, folding the flexible cartilage encasing his external ear. squished between the petroleum jelly and plastic rap stood a nonchalant K.

i lightly traced its swollen properties, brow furrowed at its insignificance. “this is cute.”

zion whipped around to face me, frantically batting his lashes at me in astonishment.

“just cute?” he clarified.

“yeah, i think it’s a cute family tat. kekleli and elom should get one. make it a sibling thing” i suggested innocently.

zion let out a breathy chuckle as he shook his head at my ignorance.

“what? isn’t it just your last name? k for kuwonu” i puzzled as he continued to find the situation amusing.

“that’s a good coverup but i didn’t get this as a family tattoo. i got it for you” zion declared.

i abruptly let out a sharp gasp; clasping my shaking hand over the wide of my mouth. i stared at zion in complete incredulity.

his eyes sparkled with excitement as the corners of his mouth contagiously remained upwards.

“z, you didn’t have to do this” i breathed, misty tendencies forming in my eyes.

“i know, i wanted to do this” zion paused to massage away the lone tears painting my cheeks, “you mean everything to me.”

“you’re amazing z. this is beautiful. thank you. i love you” i cooed, pressing my lips against his.

“you’re welcome baby. i love you too” zion replied as we both feel back onto the couch; eager to reel in the benefits of our love.

#prettymuch #zion kuwonu #prettymuch preference #zion kuwonu preference

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themurphyzone · 4 years

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PatB Oneshot: We’re Just Mice

A/N: This is my first time writing for Pinky and the Brain! I was inspired after reading skimmingsurface’s and SylviaW1991’s fics because their characterizations are just phenomenal. Hope you enjoy!

FFN, A03

They liked torturing him with aggravating experiments. Another insipid maze that Brain could navigate with his eyes closed. The only deviation from the norm was that a normal mouse had been selected to run the maze with him instead of Pinky.

There wasn’t much of a difference between Pinky and a normal mouse’s usual finishing times though.

The lab tech roughly deposited Brain and the other mouse at the start of the maze, then rushed off to chat with a female coworker. Several mounted video cameras were stationed at the junctions, but the lights along their sides remained off.

They weren’t being observed and there would be no proper recordings either. The tech would have to falsify his results. It was unprofessionalism to the highest degree.

“A complete waste of time,” Brain grumbled. He itched to double-check his calculations in time for tonight’s plan. His estimations needed to be flawless, otherwise it could prove to be their downfall when he used humanity’s desire to protect endangered species against them.

“Come, Pinky,” he called out of habit, not fully expecting Pinky to follow him. His wayward associate would inevitably find the ceiling fascinating and stray off the correct path.

His words were met with a feeble squeak, and Brain suddenly found it disconcerting to be in a maze where he wouldn’t hear Pinky’s strange verbal patterns. Perhaps he was relying too much on muscle memory. The other mouse sniffed the air and shuffled away, disappearing around a corner.

Brain headed in the opposite direction. He knew better than to rely on the cheese scent, which would disappear in a few minutes once his nose became desensitized to it. If Pinky were here, he’d be able to identify the type of cheese by smell alone. Brain only knew how to scent rotten cheese because Pinky would ingest it without regard for potential food poisoning.

Pinky, Pinky, Pinky. He still managed to be an annoyance even without his physical presence!

“Out of sight, out of mind,” Brain muttered, though the phrase didn’t seem applicable when Pinky was involved. “Concentrate on the plan.”

First, the emotional story. He and Pinky would appeal to the National Wildlife Federation and present themselves as the last of the mus musculus intelligentus subspecies. They’d narrowly escaped being crushed under a bulldozer tearing down the forests of Northern California at ages too young to be separated from their parents. Banding together to survive, they taught themselves how to forage until a scientist caught them in a trap for research. They were taken to ACME Labs and genetically enhanced after enduring numerous cruel experiments. Finally, they decided to use their newfound ability to communicate with humans and share their story.

Once those seeds were planted, he’d allow their story to be circulated across The New York Times, National Geographic, and all the other major news and magazine organizations. Humans would be on their knees, begging to see the famous mus musculus intelligentus duo!

Then Brain would reveal the final stage: demand justice from the United Nations for the wrongs done to their species. And the only justice he’d accept was in the form of being crowned world leader. He wouldn’t settle for anything less.

Perhaps he’d create a labyrinth designed to stimulate people’s minds once he was ruler. He could easily create a far better maze than the ones he was forced to endure.

The pathways were predictable as always. It only took one left turn and two more rights before he reached the end of the maze. The two cheese balls weren’t attached to any electrical wires this time, but Brain disliked eating food used as an incentive for completing a task. He was a sentient creature and would never lower himself to baser instincts.

He couldn’t help but entertain the idea of smuggling one of the cheese balls back to the cage. Pinky would be exuberant and prattle on about how it was the best cheese he’d eaten in his life even though he ate cheese whenever it was available to him.

Brain quickly pushed that image out of his mind. Normal food pellets didn’t have much nutritional value. Pinky was just eating an adequate source of calcium. It was vital to keep his energy level up so he could participate in their quests for world domination.

He settled against the cardboard wall, resigning himself to being stuck until the scientists clocked out for the day. Assuming someone bothered to remove him from the maze, of course. Not that he’d have any trouble finding his own way out.

“Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium,” Brain recited. He had to occupy his mind somehow. His current environment was unsuitable for inspiring plans.

He’d just gotten to bismuth on his second recitation of the periodic table when he heard the angry footfalls. A livid red face loomed above him, and Brain only had a split second to recognize the incompetent lab tech before a sweaty hand seized his entire head and jerked him upward.

Brain twisted in the man’s vicegrip, attempting to bite the thumb so he could make his displeasure known. But his teeth snapped at empty air instead, his body slamming into a hard counter. Slightly dazed, Brain took a moment to rub his temples, clearing the black spots in his peripheral vision.

An irritatingly familiar cry of “narf” brought his senses back completely, just in time to see the normal mouse dangling by its tail, oddly limp and quiet in the lab tech’s hand.

The lab tech stomped over to a wastebasket and dropped the mouse into the plastic lining below. The mouse’s head flopped at an angle that shouldn’t have been possible with its anatomy.

Brain gripped the edge of the countertop as the lab tech threw scrap paper over the mouse’s unmoving body.

It was dead from a broken neck, a barbaric and senseless murder that would receive no justice.

The lab tech retreated into a different section of the lab, as if he hadn’t just committed an act of animal cruelty.

And a heartbroken sob from across the room told Brain he hadn’t been the only witness.

O – O – O – O – O

“Don’t get too attached. That one’s getting inoculated with a virus tomorrow.”

“Useful as snake food, not much else.”

“They’re just mice. We can always get more.”

The murderer had gone home. The other scientists had clocked out hours ago, unaware of the dead mouse buried in a heap of scrap paper without a shred of dignity.

Brain clutched the pencil, writing out a series of linear equations and engrossing himself in the familiar letters and numbers.

Equations were simple. Logical questions with logical solutions. Patterns that were set, established, and unable to be proven wrong.

Numbers didn’t have emotions.

Which was precisely the reason Brain wanted to deal with numbers before he had to deal with the living antithesis to logic and objectivity.

But nightfall was approaching fast, the last of the sun’s rays disappearing over the horizon. He couldn’t waste more time thinking about the corpse of a rodent he never knew.

Unlock the cage. Collect Pinky. Review plan. Bop Pinky for interrupting explanation. Implement plan.

Brain mentally repeated the simple steps as he retrieved his notebook and a paperclip, ignoring how he couldn’t hear his cagemate running on the squeaky wheel. He usually told Pinky to be quiet several times by now. But there hadn’t been a reason to say it once tonight.

He was annoyed by both the presence and absence of Pinky’s background noise, and the paradox confused and bothered him.

Brain approached the cage with his paperclip. Pinky’s ear twitched, but his gaze remained on the small garbage bin.

Pinky had the perfect vantage point to see everything in the room. His posture was hunched, his usual cheer replaced by an unnatural melancholic demeanor.

Brain was supposed to be the melancholy one. Never Pinky. That wasn’t how their friend…ahem, associative relationship worked.

Forcing himself to think about the plan, Brain straightened one end of the paperclip and jammed it into the keyhole, carefully listening for the soft click.

“Pinky,” Brain called as the cage door swung open. “It’s time to go over tonight’s plan.”

Pinky jumped, a hand thrown over his chest in shock. His blue eyes were round and shiny with tears, the fur around his cheeks damp.

His appearance took Brain aback too, and they stared at each other for an excruciatingly long time.

After what seemed like an eternity, Pinky finally broke the silence with an agonizing wail, throwing himself at Brain at a speed that even light would’ve envied.

“Ba-Brain! I thought you were a goner!” Pinky cried, winding his lanky body around Brain and clinging so tightly that it felt like he was being crushed by a furry boa constrictor. Tears spilled onto Brain’s head, and he quickly flattened his ears so the moisture didn’t slide into his auditory canals. “That…that mean ol’ techie was super mad and it wasn’t the fun fun silly-willy type of mad either! Layla told him no, and he said she owed him cause he helped her carry stuff and then the girls walked out all huffy. Then he stomped around for a while and plucked you and the other mouse up like spring chickens. The other mouse’s head flip-flopped all over the place. Poit, if my head did that I would be dizzier than a whirlywind!”

Pinky’s ramble dissolved into syllables one could only find in a Scrabble dictionary. Realizing Pinky had a sort of loose grasp on the situation but was barely coherent, Brain decided he needed to take control now before the blubbering proved too much.

He glanced at his notebook, the numbered steps open and inviting, but he’d never hammer his plan through Pinky’s genetically modified skull in his current emotional state.

“Pinky, cease your babbling this instant or I shall be forced to hurt you,” Brain managed to choke out despite Pinky’s iron grip on his entire body. Slowly, Pinky released him, but kept close. Brain inhaled deeply, his lungs screaming for precious oxygen. “Just for the record, your head can’t reproduce those motions and should never be capable of it while you breathe.”

Pinky blinked. “Were we recording?”

Brain sighed, grabbing Pinky’s nose and tugging him down so that they were eye level. “I was preoccupied in the maze and my surroundings prevented me from having the perspective you had. I want you to start from the top. And please try to be more coherent this time.”

“More confetti this time, got it,” Pinky nodded. “Well, the techie plopped you in the maze with the other mouse and zoomed right outta there when Layla walked by.”

“The new hire?” Brain asked. It was rare for seasoned employees to take interest in rookies, which contributed to the lab’s high turnover rate.

“Narf, that’s her! It’s so lovely of her to clean out our cage!” Pinky exclaimed. And it was even rarer to find employees who had a tiny notion for a lab animal’s living conditions. Most people just wanted their paychecks.

“At the cost of our sleep and my plans,” Brain muttered. Layla didn’t pick them up by their tails, an unusual trait for an ACME employee, but he still disliked how she came in early and disrupted his sleep and brainstorming sessions for new plans. Besides, Pinky did a perfectly adequate job of keeping their cage tidy. He didn’t require assistance from humans. “Continue.”

“He gave her a rose, but it was smooshy and plastic-y,” Pinky’s nose wrinkled. “Must’ve sat down on it too. Said he liked her and wanted a date. Bit old for her if you ask me.”

Brain turned away from Pinky, fixing his gaze on the wall above that accursed wastebasket. “And she said no. Then he lost his temper,” he finished, his own anger threatening to spill over. But he pushed it back. Not yet. Put the events in chronological order first.

“They yelled an awful lot, Brain,” Pinky whimpered. “I could hear them over here, clear as egg yolk. I couldn’t hear my wheel squeak, and you know how loud my wheel squeaks. Layla was crying awfully hard and a bunch of the women had to help her leave. Didn’t you hear them?”

It was an honest question, but Brain didn’t want to answer. Had he really been so focused on taking over the world that he never noticed how this entire mess built up in the first place?

“He snapped that mouse’s neck,” Brain said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. “And killed him. Because he couldn’t accept her refusal.”

By some stroke of dumb luck, Pinky made it out unscathed.

But it could’ve been Pinky…

It could’ve easily been Pinky.

“Layla’s favorite mouse in the whole wide lab,” Pinky whispered, his voice breaking. “She called him Basil. And she doesn’t know he’s…you know.”

Brain didn’t reply, turning his attention to his notebook instead. He had to focus on the plan now. And when he ruled the world, he’d have the power to enact laws and reform entire systems to prevent further desecrations and injustices from ever happening again.

And then he remembered the entire foundation for the plan.

Step One: Send message to the National Wildlife Federation. Appeal to pathos. Example opening statement: “We’re just mice. The last of the mus musculus intelligentus subspecies. We watched our brethren die because of human activity.”

Revise as needed.

Brain’s vision blurred, the paper crinkling in his hands. Someone’s voice called to him, but they would’ve had better luck speaking through a soundless vacuum.

We’re just mice.

Disposable living models to humans. Cosmic playthings to the universe.

We’re just mice.

Given sentience and no chance to make a difference in the world.

We’re just mice.

Whose minds and hearts would waste away, as if they never existed at all.

O – O – O – O – O

Brain didn’t remember what happened next. One moment he was reading the plan, the next he was in Pinky’s warm embrace, surrounded by a pile of shredded paper.

One of Pinky’s hands pressed Brain’s head to his heart, the fast yet strong thump-thump-thump resounding and soothing to his desperate mind. The other hand rubbed gentle circles into Brain’s back.

Pinky’s chest was damp, but he didn’t seem to care. He hummed a little tune, keeping his eyes tilted up to prevent his own glistening tears from falling.

“Poit. You ripped up your own plan thingy,” Pinky said, his voice trembling. “And you were angry crying. That mean techie hurt you, Brain. You can get madsad all you want. I’ll be here.”

Brain pressed his face into Pinky’s chest, an act he would consider mortifying under normal circumstances, yet his irrational side won out. “We’re just mice,” he said, pointedly ignoring Pinky’s uncomfortable observations on his emotions. “We hardly matter in the grand scheme of things.”

Pinky’s mouth curled into an obstinate pout. “You matter to me. You’re the smartest mouse I know. The smartest smartie candy ever.”

The words were oddly phrased, but sincere. Brain began to feel uncomfortably warm, and he stepped away before his emotions started making his body react in strange ways.

“I…appreciate your assistance, Pinky,” Brain admitted. “But tonight’s plan isn’t feasible. Humans don’t care enough to preserve our species’ dignity, last living individuals or not.”

“Layla cares,” Pinky replied. “She’ll cry when she finds Basil tomorrow morning. And she won’t stop being sad. I wish we could help her not be sad anymore, Brain.”

Brain shook his head. “There’s only so much you’re capable of, Pinky. She might reconsider her employment here because of the lab tech’s actions. There’s a high probability we may never see her again.”

He wouldn’t be accomplishing much tonight. But Brain didn’t want to sleep yet. Instead he gathered the shredded paper, keeping the written words face down so he didn’t have to see the heavy reminders of his mortality.

He was almost through with his self-appointed task when he spotted Pinky drawing closer to the wastebasket. There was a reverence in Pinky’s movements as he balanced on his toes, long arms reaching towards the rim. Crumpled paper spilled out as Pinky carefully tipped over the wastebasket.

Brain dropped the scraps of his plan, not caring if he kicked them off the counter as he rushed over to Pinky. Only Pinky would be stupid enough to believe there was something they could do in this awful mess.

Pinky tossed aside a forgotten report, uncovering the corpse, which somehow seemed bigger when he’d run the maze alongside Brain.

The dead mouse was named Basil, according to Pinky. Not a letter and number designation, or a colorful string of profanity when someone tried to use uncooperative animals in their experiments, but a real name.

Pinky dragged the lower half of Basil’s body out of the wastebasket, panting heavily since Basil’s stiffened paws scraped against the floor and required more exertion to move. Basil’s neck wasn’t flopping anymore, but it was locked into a crooked, unnatural angle.

“He’s stiff, Brain,” Pinky said, his voice hitching as he tried to move one paw into a more comfortable position. “How do we help him relax?”

Unwilling to explain the concept of rigor mortis to Pinky, Brain decided to change the subject. “What are you doing, Pinky?”

“He oughta be comfy,” Pinky said, a tear slipping down his face. A silent sob wracked his body, but Pinky somehow held on. “The bin isn’t a nice place to rest. It’s too prickly. And he’ll wind up in the big stinky trash mountain. He should sleep somewhere nice.”

Brain didn’t want to admit it, but Pinky was right. Basil would be thrown into a garbage truck and taken to a landfill to rot in the next few days if they left his body here. Or someone who took contamination procedures seriously would find Basil and throw him into a biohazard bag, like he was just another leftover bacteria culture.

Both disposal methods were unsettling, to say the least.

“There’s a beautiful tree outside,” Pinky continued. “With roots big enough to play hide and seek under. Do you think he’d like that, Brain?”

Basil wouldn’t like anything anymore. He was dead.

But Brain’s curt reply died on his tongue when he found his companion watching him with hopeful eyes, looking at him like he held all of life’s answers in his hands.

“He’d appreciate it very much, Pinky.”

O – O – O – O – O

Basil was laid to rest in a cushioned jewelry box. Pinky wrote the name on the lid in permanent Sharpie. He insisted on it. Brain let him, though it resulted in the top being covered in misspellings. But Pinky’s determination shone through.

They sealed the box shut with tape, protecting the body from predators and other forms of harm. Brain made sure to wind the tape around several times, knowing Pinky would be distraught if something managed to pry it open and damage Basil.

Pinky cried during the entire journey to the tree, but he refused to relinquish his hold on the box.

There was a hollow where the trunk connected to the roots. Large enough for Pinky to squeeze himself and the box through, but small enough that nobody else would be able to disturb Basil’s final resting place. They’d have to cut down the tree for that, which hopefully wouldn’t happen for a very long time.

Brain waited outside the hollow, underneath the vast canopy of the night sky. He didn’t look to the stars, as he was prone to do on some nights when he needed to think for a while. There would be plenty of opportunities for him to contemplate his existence in the future.

Pinky crawled out of the hollow, his fur caked with dirt, leaves, and tears. Brain brushed a few leaves off Pinky’s fur, letting them flutter gently to the ground.

“Don’t worry, Brain,” Pinky said, as if Brain was the emotional wreck who required comforting. “The streets are paved with cheese in heaven.”

“How unsanitary,” Brain muttered.

Pinky giggled, a tiny one that was probably inappropriate for the occasion, but it was enough. He wanted to stay out for a while longer, but Brain had something else he wanted to do before the night was over.

They cleaned themselves in the sink, then Pinky left to make tea with honey and lemon. After an emotional trainwreck of the day and night, Brain was looking forward to a thimble to settle his nerves.

In the meantime, he drew up the termination papers.

Aggression not conducive for safe workplace.

The humans would believe it was for harassment, which suited Brain just fine. He refused to let that neanderthal of a lab tech anywhere near Pinky.

He rejoined Pinky on the counter. There were two steaming hot thimbles and several torn sticky notes next to him.

“Layla should know,” Pinky said, tongue sticking out as he attempted to spell ‘tree’.

“Keep it anonymous,” Brain replied.

But he transcribed the message between sips of tea anyway.

Pinky didn’t know Layla on a personal level. He would gain no reward, reap no benefits from his actions, yet her feelings mattered to him.

Pinky never shared a cage with Basil, never knew him when he was alive either. Even deceased, Basil’s comfort mattered to him.

And Pinky had proven time and time again that Brain mattered to him. Brain could forget, but Pinky never would.

Just a mouse, but an important mouse who deserved the world.

A/N: When I was in middle school, I went to a summer camp. At some point, the boys’ cabin decided to stuff a dead mouse into one of those long Pringles cans and leave it outside of the girls’ cabin. I was the first to find it, though I think I just left the can where I found it. I felt pretty bad for the mouse though.

I was almost tempted to use that in the story, but poor little Basil suffered enough.

Can you tell I love these two by how much I make them cry?

#pinky and the brain #fanfiction #oneshot

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beowulfs-booty-call · 5 years

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Can yall imagine the skullgirls crew at the Met Gala like:

Parasoul: Dresses the part, but goes ham on the Annie, girl of the stars cosplay. Always on standby with security. "Take the shot." Is her go to on the red carpet.

Eliza: "Why, yes! I AM rich." She comes in with many men hoisting her up as a goddess must be worshipped. Blood fashion is all the rage in 2019, it's a flowing piece with a chunk on the right side being open to show Sekhmet's ribs and "organs" but critics believe that her dress (which is carried by Albus and Horace) is modeled as a take on the human anatomy.

Squigly: Goes to town with her makeup so she comes off as a very well illustrious Gemini, with one side as her red and white striped dress, the other as a black and white Tux with Leviathan wearing a top hat and a bow tie.

Filia: Samson whips his tendrils into the longest winding braid that she can then whip with an audible crackle, she wears a modified version of her school outfit, the only difference is she tie-dyed it and added bedazzle gems everywhere.

Peacock: Expert mode, she shows up in a eye straining Lisa Frank version of her regular outfit but drilled extra Argus Eyes onto the dress. Avery helped staple gun it.

Ms. Fortune & Robo Fortune: Robo Fortune dresses in an aqua matador outfit, carrying Ms. Fortune's head while holding her body connected by a leash.

Big Band: He finally can go out as himself, trading in his coat for a cropped petticoat that emphasises his Saxploitation

Carol: Summer dress with the smile emojis everywhere and holes to stick out her arms, under said dress is her school uniform. She's holding a mask of the real Carol's face over her PainWheel mask. Her "Carol" mask however has many "blinking" eyes that open and close on their own.

Valentine: Val dresses up in pink "pajamas" that are as fuzzy as fuzzy dice. Revealing as youd think, she carries a pocketbook that's basically her medical kit and her nurse hat is topped off by the mink boa that's connected to a candy skull she bites into on the carpet.

Beowulf: Goes either 2 ways; He doesn't get the memo and doesn't know what camp means so he goes in as an ACTUAL camp instructor and doesnt understand the buzz while stuffing his mouth with free cheese and hordorves OR he comes in with a tattered and ripped suit and fur sprouting everywhere along with his wolf hood to make the "Hungry like a wolf" puns.

#me stuff #skullgirls #Valentine #Parasoul #filia #Squigly #Peacock #Big Band #Beowulf #Wulf Husband #Painwheel #Carol

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silvery-vixen · 5 years

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The Coldness of Siberian nights

Summary: When Dr. Logan Berrie got sent to Siberia to research flora and fauna of the harsh russian taiga, he did not expect his whole world to change. Seems like none of his knowledge had prepared him for what he would find here.

Warnings: Gore, Violence, soft swearing

I am not a native english speaker, so I apologize in advance for possible grammar and vocab mistakes.

Word count: 1547

Chapter 1

Dr. Logan Berrie, best in his field of expertise at the Exeter University, did not believe in monsters, ghosts and frights of the night. Neither did he think that all those legends or myths that people told each other were at all true.

Sure most of the old tales had some kind of moral core or deeper meaning to them that justified the pure abstrusity of their content, but his entire life he had been fairly certain, that there was no way creatures like ghouls, vampires or werewolves could actually exist.

Talking animals, flying carpets or brooms, magic and fairies. None of these things were something he would concern himself with, for as a scientist he only believed in, or rather trusted two things: the scientific evidence on his desk or in his labor and himself.

But somehow he had just started to question the latter.

Because, if there was no way that those creatures existed, why did he find himself sitting in the snow of the harsh siberian forest, rescued from a glibbery creature, which he couldn't quite get a grasp on, by a giant black wolf, that certainly exceeded the heights and strength and intelligence of any normal siberian wolf?

In fact, the animal held the size of a bear, but it's facial features and anatomy clearly pointed it out to be a wolf. A male siberian wolf.

And just now it stood on top of whatever was left of the unknown creature, that had attacked the scientist earlier, blood and gore smeared into its fur and entrails scattered beneath it's giant paws, staring at Logan with soft curiosity in it's... His glistening lilac eyes.

Logan felt his breath falter and his heart rate jumped to unhealthy heights, when the wolf slowly started to approach him.

In a panicked frenzy he tried crawling backwards, out of the reach of the animals giant fangs, while he desperately looked for his bear rifle.

God he was too young to die. He still had to finish so much research! Write some scientific papers!

Nonononono!

He just finished his dissertation, got the doctors degree. He was not finished with this world yet!

The wolf didn't stop. He slowly took one step after the other to bridge the distance between themselves and the panicking scientist.

Logan's clumsy, numb fingers brushed through ice cold snow, branches and half rotten leaves, But the early taigan nightfall had already covered the land with its shady blanket and the condensed water on Logans glasses, that had slowly rearranged its molecules to form ice crystals, worsened his sight even more.

Where was his rifle?

He must have dropped it somewhere around here. It had to be here!

The air that escaped his lips turned to thick clouds of vapor in front of his face and even glittered softly in the moonlight, as if it turned to ice as soon as it left the warmth of the doctors body.

The temperature had dropped drastically with the disappearance of the sun. But Logan didn't even notice.

Those lilac eyes that were directed at him sent an awkward feeling through his body. It was a mixture of pure fear and a weird calmness that took hold of his limbs. He suddenly felt the need to sit still and just wait for the beast to reach him, because it would be okay.

Except clearly it wouldn't.

He would be eaten alive, ripped to shreds like that thing earlier. (He could still hear the creatures screeching echoing between the cedar trees) and he fought with all his minds strength against this numbness in his body that took over his mind.

Again Logan looked around for anything that could help him (at this point he didn't even care what it was as long as it was pointy and/or deadly in any other way), when his eyes suddenly got caught by the reflection of the moon on the barrel of his rifle only a few feet away and he pushed himself up in one desperately fluid motion, jumped over to the weapon, grabbed it and swirled around to point it at…. Nothing.

The wolf was gone.

Vanished without a trace, safe his paw prints in the snow.

The cold and the stress had exhausted him and the walk back to the relative safety of his Jeep had felt like a marathon run.

Now, back in the warmth of the log cabin that his university had rented for him in the outskirts of a small russian town, he didn't have the strength to think over today's events, he couldn't even read a book.

After he forced down a hot cup of tea and some slices of the hard, dark russian bread, he went straight to bed.

Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe it all had been just a dream.

But of course it wasn't.

When Logan woke up the next day his body hurt in places, he didn't even know existed.

His fingers felt as if they had been under high pressure. A side effect of a near frostbite, he was sure. And he had various scratches and smaller wounds on his limbs that needed treatment.

A look in the mirror showed several more bruises and some cuts from when the slimy monster… no not monster. There was no such thing as a monster… the creature … had initially attacked, before the wolf had shown up.

His hair was a mess and dirt and parts of leaves and branches sticked out of it but nothing a shower couldn't mend.

He took his normal clothes, in which he had slept in, off and threw them into the litter, without giving them a second glance. They were shredded and bloodstained and beyond repair.

His thermoisolating coat and trousers were damaged as well. Maybe he could repair them, but he would probably just have to buy new clothes.

The fabric couldn't guarantee a sufficient thermal isolation with all these holes in it and here in this unforgiving part of the world, a good isolation could decide on life or death.

After his shower and a forced down breakfast of one slice of bread with some cheese, he decided to make good use of the limited daylight here in the northern hemisphere and go shopping for new clothes first, before deciding or thinking about anything else. Especially about yesterday evening.

First things first, second things second, right?

Logan turned his Jeep into the parking lot of a small shop that sold outdoor clothing amongst other things and got out of the car with shaky knees.

During the drive here the dark trees in the distance and the reflection of sun rays on the snow had reminded him of the terror that he had felt the night before.

But to his own surprise, the fearful thoughts weren't directed at the giant, clearly not normal wolf, but at the other thing.

The thing that had more limbs than a normal mammal should have, with slimy skin that seemed clearly impractical for living in the harsh russian taiga, due to the fact that it should freeze. That thing that didn't even care about any of these points and still had wandered around the forest attacking people.

What the hell was that thing?!

The doorbell chimed a little too joyously, when he entered the store and he was immediately greeted by a very happy man in light blue, that distracted him from his thoughts about whether or not he should go back to examine the remains of the body.

"Hi! Hello there! Welcome to Patton's practical store! If you need something, just let me know and I'll be all there for you!"

The cheery guy beamed at Logan before his smile slightly faltered, when he sighted the scratches all over the scientists face.

"Oh my, what happened to you?!"

Before Logan could even think about answering that question, the man, probably Patton, had taken his hand and towed him into a small room in the back of the store, where he placed him on a soft light brown couch with way too many pillows and put a cup of hot green tea on the coffee table in front of the scientist.

"Thank you, but that was really not necessary",

Logan weakly announced, when the man put a bowl full of at least 7 different sorts of cookies next to his cup.

"You poor thing got all bruised up! Did you have an accident? Do you need a doctor? I have never seen you here before. Are you on vacation?"

"N...no! No I'm fine. Thank you.. erm..?"

"Patton! I'm Patton! You can call me Pat!"

"Well thank you, Patton, but I am fine. Really. I just need some… clothing. Isolation clothes against the cold. For an excursion. You see I'm a biochemist. I explore the flora and fauna of the area."

Patton's expression changed. Just very slightly, very subtly, but it did.

A hint of caution and concern now accompanied the shallow joy in his light blue eyes.

"So you have been to the forest lately, then?"

He asked, still smiling, while taking a cookie himself, trying to look nonchalant, but in Logan's opinion clearly failing.

The scientist furrowed his brows. Something about the store owners reaction seemed off.

#lynnwrites #logan sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #royality #spirit!au #spirittamer!virgil #spirittamer!patton #scientist!logan #fanfic

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pohocounty · 6 years

Text

i haven’t written a big old creeper biology post in awhile so let’s talk fun facts about his body structure & the general components of his physical being.

he has MASSIVE shoulders, for one, thickly corded with muscle and as sturdy as fucking steel. more specifically, he has a powerful upper body in general, including his chest and arms, because he’s built for flight despite his humanoid anatomy -- which necessitates both having giant wings ( a 32 foot wingspan, to be exact! ) and a well-developed, knotted network of muscle to support the body when being carried by them. the wings function as a secondary set of arms; the palms and thumbs of the ‘hands’ of his wings are extremely visible. the webbed tissue is stretched so tight and thin between the fingers of his wings that, when used correctly, can act the same as a high-strung wire snapping into momentum and gliding through a block of cheese -- razor-sharp, and able to cut through human flesh + bone like a hot knife through butter.

i don’t like the depiction of him as this ... super cut, toned creature with hershey-bar abs. given how much he eats and how often he uses his upper body to throw weapons and lift shit up -- including himself -- i like to think he has a firm but round belly, with his most defined muscle located in his chest, back, and limbs, where all the major work is done. his core is strong, but it’s strongman-strong, not body-builder-model strong.

dulu is also built for running. he doesn’t have the long legs and slender torso of a runner, by any means; he’s built for power and endurance, not speed. a cheetah is built to sprint for short bursts, and dulu is built to run at a steady pace, sometimes for over half an hour, without tiring. his thighs, ass, and calves certainly haven’t suffered for it. the muscle there is as firm and thick as the muscle in his biceps and shoulder-blades -- and yes, he knows he’s pretty.

usually, he flies -- he doesn’t glide. by flying i mean he flaps his wings to maneuver and carry himself, rather than relying on the power of the wind. however, JC2 shows us that he’s able to perform a multitude of in-air tasks such as riding a wind-current ( gliding low to the ground in pursuit of a truck, using its wake to carry his body along ), dive-bombing with his wings folded against his legs and torso to form a torpedo-like shape out of himself, and rocketing straight up into the sky, disappearing from view within seconds -- but these actions expend a lot more energy than flying as he usually would ( slow, methodical propelling of the wings ), so he tends to save them for emergencies, or only resort to them whilst in a manic state.

he possesses, as a majority of insects and insectoid creatures do, an exoskeleton -- chitinous tissue that guards the soft meat underneath. any internal bones are stolen from what he consumes off of human bodies; at this point, he is a simultaneously exo- and endo- skeletal being. almost none of the bones of his endoskeleton are properly connected, allowing him to twist and bend in wholly unnatural positions so long as his external armor permits the movement. his skull is not connected to his spine, which we also see in JC2, given that he is easily able to remove and replace his own head -- his entire body is held together by these frilled, fin-like structures cradling every major joint and join of his form. he is at his most vulnerable when highly agitated, as these structures loosen their grip on his head and limbs in order to puff out as a sort of threat display. his temper is, quite literally, his downfall.

the creeper isn’t totally void of body hair. the backs of his calves and elbows have tufts of white down jutting out from them, and a mane of white fluff starts at the back of his head and hugs him around the width of his neck, tapering down between his pectorals and ending there. his mane continues in a ridge of fur down the length of his spine, tucking down between his glutes / inner thighs and emerging between his legs, dying off just below his slit -- giving the impression of pubic hair, although his groin itself is relatively hairless. he also has eyelashes and, in some instances, a dotting of salt-and-pepper stubble along the hard line of his jaw.

his claws are retractable, as are his teeth. this proves especially convenient when he doesn’t want to shred his own clothing.

dulu’s feet are .. you know .. foot-shaped, but with elongated toes and an ankle-bound dewclaw. the digits here are prehensile, functioning as fingers when necessary and able to easily maintain their grip on over 200 pounds of weight ( think ‘bat feet.’ )

#the creeper.#biology.#i lov him #long post

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hiyo-silver · 6 years

Text

Cat Parents

Summary: Bill Denbrough and Eddie Kaspbrak adopt a rascal of a kitten.

A/N: For my friend Ash @beepbeep-losers who just got a kitty!

Pairings: Bill Denbrough/ Eddie Kaspbrak

AO3

Taglist: @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @starboystan @rachi0964 @shewasthewind @bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose1122 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic @boopboopreddie @peachywyatt

Eddie stops the car, looking over at Bill in the passenger seat, a beaming smile on his face. "You ready, Bill?" He asks, Bill's smile making his own grow at least three sizes. He looks through the windshield, seeing the glowing blue sign of the petstore, the light reflecting into Bill's already blue eyes.

"I'm ready," Bill agrees, cracking his car door open to not hit the truck next to them, slipping out carefully. He and Eddie had just moved in together properly a few weeks ago, but it's been their goal for years. It's time for a pet, they'd decided. Some responsibility. We'll be parents together, Bill remembers the conversation, grinning softly as he takes Eddie's hand in his, swinging their arms between them as they approach the pet store.

They push the glass door open together, the bell jingling in a cheerfully comforting manner, Eddie squeezing Bill's hand tighter. They approach the older man at the counter, releasing their hands just in case.

"Hi! Uh, sir, can we look at the cats?" Bill asks, looking at Eddie reassuringly as he does all the talking for the two of them, something that's become more common since they've started dating, and Eddie began to appreciate it more than be frustrated by it. He knows about Bill's anxiety, so it's a big deal that he wants to do this for Eddie.

The man smiles warmly at the two of them, pulling a set of keys from his pocket and holding them up, "Sure, let me open it up for you," he nods, whistling as he leads the pair to the cat room. "My name is Charles, if you need anything you come back to me, I can help you hold them, help you fill out the paperwork, everything," the older man lets them know.

They both smiles and nod, almost on their toes with excitement over getting to meet the animals, and even take one home as their own, it's a huge milestone in their relationship.

Eddie's monster of a mother had never allowed him a pet, claiming that they're disgusting and carry disease, this would be the first furry creature he'd properly own (besides the time he'd babysat animals for neighbors, which he'd do at every opportunity he got).

Bill had owned a small orange hamster, affectionately named 'Cheese' by his late younger brother. He'd always laughed at the name when Georgie was around but now the thought of the small pet brought him grief, especially remembering his twelve year old self losing that hamster.

They step into the room, hearing the shuffling of paws and a few quiet meows pierce the quiet, Eddie immediately melting to a puddle of the cat lover he is, Bill's eyes shine as he scans the room for the first one to interact with, almost deciding then and there to take them all home with him.

"Bill! Bill! Lookit that one! All white!" Eddie exclaims, admiring the smooth purity of the cat's fur, poking his finger into the cage and nearly crying when the cat pokes her nose to his finger. "I've been accepted, I love her," he claims immediately.

Bill reads the card attached to the cat's cage, "Duchess, 4, left here because she's- pregnant," Bill reads, surprised at the last bit, immediately trying to pull Eddie to another cat, not ready for that responsibility yet, or ever probably.

Eddie looks a bit taken aback by finding out the cat is carrying kittens, something he and Bill especially aren't equipped to deal with. Bill guides him to a small brown kitten, named Reese, "He's a boy, definitely have to get him fixed soon, don't want cat piss on my stuff," Eddie chuckles.

Bill sticks his finger through the bars cooing at the small cat. "He's a little rascal, I bet," Bill grins, the feisty little one pawing at his hand and trying to chew on his pointer finger.

"Billy- I just want a cuddly cat," Eddie says in a whiny voice, trying to keep it down as not to scare the kittens, who he's heard have sensitive hearing.

"Alright, alright, I'll teach your cuddler how to pounce anyways," Bill teases, sticking his tongue out at Eddie as Eddie pouts glumly at him.

"Just, don't make them aggressive?" Eddie asks in a small voice, to which Bill responds by pulling him into a comforting hug and a sweet kiss on the cheek.

"Of course, baby, our cat will be the best cat to ever exist," he promises, running his fingers through Eddie's ashy blonde hair, pleased to find it not gelled for once.

Eddie grins in his success, popping up on his toes to peck Bill's lips before swiftly pulling away and leading him to another cage holding a small speckled cat with green eyes that seem to speak to Eddie's mocha ones.

"Bill, I like this one," Eddie says, the small kitten originally shying away into the shadowy depths of her cage, but then she comes forward, nodding at Eddie as if to acknowledge that he's alright.

"She's pretty," Bill agrees, poking his finger between the wire carelessly as he reads off her info card, "Two months old, friendly, Eliza," he reads as she rubs her jaw against his pointer fingernail. "I think she's a keeper," Bill grins, tickling the fur beneath her chin.

Eddie nods proudly, his heart melting in watching the interaction. "Want me to go get Charles?" He grins, hopping up and down on his toes once again in a joy that just needs to physically burst out of him.

"Go get Charles," Bill grins back, sliding to sit cross legged on the concrete floor, cooing at the brown speckled kitten. Her green eyes glimmer in a way that he finds intriguing, a bit of mischief hiding deep inside her gaze. A mischief that Bill has seen in others, seen in Eddie, seen in Richie, himself in the mirror, seen in Georgie, he dares himself to let that last thought linger, not used to a situation making him think so much of his late younger brother after all these years. Still as painful, he decides.

Eddie comes back with the man, all the cats perking up, since it's likely that Charles is the one who feeds them. Charles pulls out his key, cooing softly to Eliza, "Ah c'mon little one, Charlie is letting you out," he whispers as she cowers in her cage, suddenly overwhelmed by all the people in the room.

Bill watches, time moving slow as Charles pulls Eliza out of the cage, holding her purring form to his chest, he goes to a carrier case, letting her slide in with ease, seeming knowing that this will be good for her.

Eddie clasps his hands together happily, his grin travelling up to his eyes as they meet Bill's. "We're dads," he whispers softly, reaching out for Bill's hand, no longer caring about possible homophobia, the papers have already been signed, what they needed to do has been done.

Charlie smiles to them, not seeming to mind their tender gaze, only make him sigh in reminiscence to his own wife, "You boys take good care of her, y'hear?"

"Of course, sir!" Eddie says quickly, squeezing Bill's hand and going with his other to grip the top of the cat carrier, holding it close to his face to peer in, beyond excited to bring her home with them.

A few nights later, Bill finds himself tossing and turning in bed, his legs tangled up in the sheet, Eddie hogging the comforter completely for himself, as it usually happens when Bill and Eddie don't fall asleep with them tangled together.

He sits up, rubbing the blurriness out of his vision, trying to force his brain into more positive thoughts, physically scrunching his eyebrows together in a vain effort to stop feeling so useless.

He hears small nails scrape across the wood floor, a clumsy slide across the bedroom. Then, he feels his side of the mattress shake as the tiny being climbs up it, still too small and clutzy to properly jump up.

He smiles slightly, hearing the little purr-meow she offers him to announce her arrival at his feet. She crawls playfully up the length of his body, right up his chest until she boops her nose against his, an expression of surprise crossing her face despite the delibracy in her actions.

She nudges her face against his face again. Cats have an ability to sense stuff like this, Bill thinks to himself, as if her sudden affection is proof. She waggles her tail back and forth in the most menacing way she can before popping up on her hind legs to get his hair, messily flopped in his face.

Bill chuckles near silently, picking her up under her front paws, holding her in front of his face for a moment, "Who's silly?" He asks in an animated whisper before putting her back down on his chest, ruffling her fur affectionately, glad she'd stay awake with him when Eddie was too exhausted to.

And even the next day, Eddie had off of class, he usually just studies on Wednesday, whispering anatomy notes back to himself to help his memory. Bill comes home, the rich scent of chocolate and coffee grounds ingrained into his work uniform and it always seems to waft off his red locks, although Eddie swears that he thinks it's hot.

Bill comes in, folding his light jacket over his arms, setting it down on a chair. He hears a song from the living room, he recognizes it as Oh! Darling by the beetles, our song, he thinks to himself with a smile.

He half expects to walk into the bedroom to find Eddie naked on the bed, ready. He tiptoes down the hallway, humming along softly as the notes hit him louder. He turns the knob, slipping in silently, his eyes passing over a sight he didn't expect.

A smile flashes over his lips, witnessing Eddie, Eliza to his chest, swaying back and forth to the rhythm, looking down at her, brushing his thumb over her whispers as he purrs furiously in content. And he realizes, this is going to be what fatherhood is like. And he decides, maybe, just maybe, this is better than finding him naked.

#it stephen king #it stephen king fanfic #it fanfic #it book #it novel #it movie #it movie 2017 #it 2017 #it 2019 #it1990 #my fics #it bill #it bill denbrough #bill denbrough #eddie kaspbrak #it eddie #it eddie kaspbrak #kaspbrough #kaspbrough fic

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my-article-cloud · 1 year

Text

What we can learn from the darker days

It is easy to feel gloomy and down on ourselves because we experience a decrease in productivity and motivation when the sun goes away so early in the day.

Be gentle with yourself through this time. Cultivate self-compassion. It’s okay to feel this way. It is also okay to reframe the darkness. Hibernation serves just as much purpose as action.

We asked our therapists at Whole Connection how they like to spend their time during this season and here is what they had to say:

Picking up a favorite book to read and wrapping up in a fuzzy blanket with m

Sitting in front of a fireplace with a book. Playing in the snow with my dog. Enjoying night hikes with friends. Lots of warm cooked meals, soups, stews, and chilis.

Time in with myself to journal and feel my feels. Go to the gym and pretend like

What are your most restful and rejuvenating activities? How can you relish the darker days?

#therapist boulder co

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yevonscribbles · 6 years

Text

Dignity

In which Gideon and Nick get it in a compromising position…

*****

Hey everybody I hope you have been enjoying the story of Nick and Gideon with the budding romance of Judy and Edward cause I have been enjoying writing it. I have plenty of ideas coming up continuing the story loosely. This weekend I am going to do some house cleaning and get hyper links going to make reading the stories flow a bit better (especially now that I am cluttering Tumblr with my random fan art...) so thank you for all the feedback, notes, and messages they mean a lot!

Fair warning this one is a little mature for suggestive content so shield your eyes!

*****

Everything was going well for Gideon Grey. The pudgy baker had just successfully opened his first “Gideon Grey’s Real Good Baked Stuff” in the Meadowlands, his fiance was due home any minute for a night alone, and he was working with his investors to plan out the future of his rapidly growing business. The red fox had been working endless hours with the goal of creating a franchise and having a test kitchen in Zootopia. That way he could finally find a house and move in with a certain Nick Wilde. With a smirk, Gideon poured some wine to go with the salad he had made for dinner. A jingle of keys alerted the baker that his partner was home.

“Welcome home mah Doughnut!” Gideon called from the kitchen. He heard a heavy coat hit the couch but no response from the fox officer. Suddenly, a warm breath tickled the back of his neck as a pair of paws wrapped around his waist. A whisper made his fur stand on end.

“Why hello sexy…” Nick said dripping with desire.

“Hhh...Hi yerself…” Gideon shivered. No matter how many times the fox officer whispered into the larger foxes ears Gid always felt weak to his knees. Expert paws slowly removed the button on the baker’s bib overalls. He felt the clothing slack around his waist. With a purr, Nick began to unbutton the plaid shirt his partner wore. With a jerk, the larger foxes shirt feel to the kitchen floor. Nick nuzzled the larger mammal and commanded. “Turn around.”

The baker turned around to meet the slender fox and saw the desire in Nick’s green eyes. Gideon kissed his fiance as he began to unbutton the crisp police uniform while his own desire began to grow. Warm paws reached below the slacked coveralls and grabbed below the baker’s tail. A noise escaped the pudgy mammal’s maul, breaking the kiss. The officer licked his lips and with a final pull the coveralls fell to the floor. Gideon felt his face turn red feeling so exposed.

“You are so sexy my Pumpkin…” Nick said before falling to his knees and running his paws through the cream fur on display before him. The officer had been waiting for this moment for the last week.

“Ah...ah guess we are putting dinner on hold?” Gideon asked with a smile, his paws moving to his partner’s head. Before Nick could respond, the door to the apartment cracked opened. Both foxes turned to the noise as their noses began to twitch trying to figure out what was happening. “Nick...did you lock da door?” The larger fox whispered.

“Yeeeesssss…” Nick hissed. A pair of voices could be heard and the door as the foxes could finally make out the mammal who had opened the door.

“... Don’t worry Edward my foxes arn’t home…” Judy slurred. Both foxes cursed to themselves.

“...Oh? Well let’s get you some water.” The raccoon said. Gideon gave Nick a confused look.

“That's Judy’s boyfriend…” The slender fox said. Nick began to curse every letting Judy have a key to his apartment. Suddenly the pair heard a heavy slump onto the couch and the muffled sound of two mammals making out. A small fit of giggling followed before more sloppy kisses could be heard. Nick looked up to his boyfriend. “Now what do we do?”

Meeting his partner’s gaze the baker said. “WE put on our clothes and try to get to our bedroom-”

“Um...Hi?”

Both foxes froze and looked to the new voice with their ears glued to their skulls. A shirtless raccoon stood in the doorway with his jeans unbutton and offered a weak wave. His face a bright crimson, “Judy...were not alone…” The grey bunny officer stumbled into the room obviously disheveled with her shirt unbuttoned and ears dropped.

“Sweet cheese and crackers...Nick you weren't lying about how big Gid is!” The rabbit slurred with a grin. Edward began to laugh and Gideon felt his face burn. Nick gave his partner a mischievous grin.

“Yah told her about mah DICK!?” The baker said with disbelief. Judy joined her boyfriend in laughing at the baker expense. Nick tried to stifle his own laughter.

“Ok. Ok. Give us 5 minutes to get dressed and we will meet you in the living room.” The slender fox said.

After a few minutes, Judy was sitting on her boyfriends lap while he sat across the couch where Gideon and Nick sat next to each other where the slender fox had his paw around his partner. An uncomfortable silence had filled the air. Not sure what the hell to do, the newest mammal spoke up.

“So ummm… Hi again Nick and hello other fox. You must be Gideon!” Edward said with a scratch of his head and a nervous smile. The baker fox gave a wave before the raccoon continued. “I’m Edward and as you might have guessed I am dating Judy who may have had too much to drink…” With a smile the rabbit lifted up her paw.

“Guilty! But to be fair, we thought you two had dinner plans and wouldn’t be home till much later. So we had a good time at a bar close by and I wanted to have sex-”

“Alright, no more talking from the drunk bunny!” Edward laughed, pulling Judy’s raised paw down and holding it. The normally composed rabbit officer began to giggle. With a sigh, the raccoon gave her a nuzzle.

“Ah don’t mind if Judy wants to come over and use our apartment for...ahem…’recreational uses,’ but ah little warning would have been nice!” Gideon said with a huff.

“I’m still horny…” Judy protested causing the rest of the room to erupt in laughter.

“I have never seen her so drunk!” Nick said slapping his knee. “What did you give her!?”

With a sigh, the raccoon gave a smile. “Dirty Shirley Temples…Apparently vodka is her weakness. My plan was to get her here, maybe make out a little until she falls asleep, and then take care of her in the morning when she gets the hangover of her life.” The both foxes found themselves giving an involuntary ‘awww.’ Judy had began to nuzzle her boyfriend’s neck.

“I wanted to hear you make that noise again…” The rabbit slurred. “That one when I put my finger-”

“Whoa, hey there Judy, some of us have already shared a lot about our private anatomy today and I don’t feel like being on that list!” Edward interrupted. “Where can I put our favorite bunny so she can rest?” Gideon got up from the couch and motioned for the raccoon to follow him. Down the hall, the baker pointed to the spare bedroom that Judy had claimed shortly after Nick moved in. Walking past the fox, the sobering rabbit officer began to giggle.

“I’m sorry we ruined your special time Gid…” Judy said.

“And?” The baker said with a huff.

“...And I am sorry I knew how big your penis was… Blame Nick!” The rabbit protested causing her boyfriend to let out a laugh.

“Don’t be too hard on the poor fox Gideon.” Edward added with a smile. “You know Judy is going to turn beet red when she hears what she said while drunk right?”

“Ohhhh yeah, ah am looking forward to it!” Gideon said with a wicked smile. “Now you take care of her, she mean a lot to us.”

“I intend on it, hopefully next time we hang out we can have less awkward nudity.” The raccoon added with a slight blush. “I might not be gay but damn dude!”

Gideon began to blush. “Sush! Get to bed both of ya!” With a final wave, the baker fox made his way to the living room only to find his boyfriend naked on the couch with a cocky smile. Gideon felt his jaw hang open.

“Like what you see?” Nick teased while patting the seat next to him. “I figured we could start again from where we were interrupted…”

“But...ah...They will hear us…: Gideon protested before his lost all rational thinking. With a sigh, Nick got up from the couch and wrapped his paws around his fiance’s waist pulling the baker fox in for a kiss. Pulling away, the officer licked his lips and gave Gideon a satisfied smile. “Well I don’t hear you protesting now…”

With his own smirk, Gideon licked the tip of his partner’s nose. “Yer horrible, ya know that you sly fox…” The larger fox lifted Nick and laid him on the couch. Rubbing his paws over the toned muscles of the officer. “Ah guess we can play Mr. Wilde. Besides, it’s yer house…”

“I like the way you think Mr. Grey… or should I say Mr. Grey-Wilde?” The lean fox teased.

“Ah could get used to that.” Gideon smiled. “Ah love you.”

“Really...Show me.” Nick purred, his emerald eyes gleaming with need. With a chuckle the larger fox proceeded to show the officer just how much he loved his fiance.

*****

The next morning...

Judy resolved never to drink again. The harsh morning sun hurt her eyes while she recovered in bed. A soft click of the door caused the rabbit to perk up. Edward came into the room holding two cups of coffee and a warm smile.

“Good morning Sunshine.” The raccoon whispered, not wanting to agitate the rabbit further. “How you feeling?”

“Like I was in an explosion...again…” Judy said taking a cup from the raccoon. “How did we make it to Nick’s apartment?”

“Well you wanted to have some naked time…” Edward admitted with a blush. “But I knew you were a little drunk, so I figured I would let you have sloppy make out times then get you to bed. We made it here and you proceeded to remove my shirt and start taking off my pants before I insisted I get you some water. When I went into the kitchen-”

“Oh sweet cheese and crackers please…” The rabbit slapped her paw to her forehead.

“Your foxes had a similar evening planned and were naked in the kitchen. I waved to them and was about to excuse myself when you stumbled into the kitchen and proceeded to compliment Gideon on the size of his penis.” The raccoon said with a smile. He was enjoying watching Judy’s reaction to what Drunk Judy had done. It might be his new favorite game.

“Oh please end me!” Judy pleaded.

“Not on your life, I have grown quite fond of you Judy Hopps. Though you may want to avoid the couch for awhile. After we went to sleep, the foxes seemed to have had a good night.” The raccoon smirked while the rabbit gave him a strained confused look.

In the other room, two foxes snored blissfully into the morning unaware of the smell of sex and stains over their fur and couch. Nick was happily laying face first in the chest of his partner whose mouth hung open with a grin. A blanket had been thrown over them by Edward when he had made coffee. At least the foxes could keep some of their dignity...

#zootopia #mature #nick wilde #gideon grey #nick x gideon #gay foxes #judy hopps #oc #origional character #fanfic #fan fiction

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arthistorycuriosity · 3 years

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My Cabinet of Curiosities

My cabinet of curiosities from top left clockwise: Farewell to Kings by Rush, an apple head with human hair, a watch from Paris, a bear claw, my father’s tooth, my cat, my great-grandma’s silverware from the 1930′s, letters from my penpal in Germany, my TI-84, and The Vancouver Province announcing Barack Obama’s first presidential election win. All these items are displayed in a vintage trunk. Farewell to Kings Album

Closer to the Heart by Neil Peart

And the men who hold high places Must be the ones who start To mold a new reality Closer to the heart Closer to the heart

The blacksmith and the artist Reflect it in their art They forge their creativity Closer to the heart Yes, closer to the heart

Philosophers and plowmen Each must know his part To sow a new mentality Closer to the heart (Peart, 1977)

The Farewell to Kings album represents music, Canadian culture, literature, and sexism. Rush is my favourite band. They are a Canadian rock band. Their members are Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson, and Neil Peart. Sadly, Peart passed away due to brain cancer in January, 2020. All three band members are intellectuals, especially Peart, who is a published author. The Farewell to Kings album art is a scene of post-atomic destruction with a doll representation of a king in the foreground who looks broken and dead, with his crown in the rubble near a destroyed bunker, with industrial pollution and a cityscape in the background. Many of the songs’ lyrics are war protest songs. The album title is also a reference to the novel, A Farewell to Arms, in which Hemmingway’s character walks away from World War I, because he is about to be unjustly executed. The character escapes with his girlfriend (who later dies in childbirth) (Hemingway, 1957). Peart also lost a wife and child. Rush is one of the most successful-ever touring bands, members of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, recipients of the Order of Canada, and holders of honorary PhD’s (Ankeny, 2020). However, can you see something wrong with Peart’s lyrics? The lyrics have such a positive sentiment, to live a life true to one’s feelings, yet Peart always employs the universal “he”. Not surprisingly, most of Rush’s fans are white, nerdy males. (At least that is the stereotype.) I would almost rather hear about Motley Crue’s treatment of groupies than suffer Rush’s utter absence of the female. So, it is with ambivalence that I present this token of my favourite band.

Apple Head

People indigenous to the Amazon rainforest originally shrunk heads to frighten off enemies and to compel the spirits of their enemies to serve them. When western cultures contacted these people, they prized the heads as travel mementos which obviously caused more killing (Santillan, 2020). My shrunken head is an apple. My dad’s friend carved it about twenty-five years ago and he attached a lock of his sister’s hair. Over the years it has hardened and blackened. It is just over an inch in diameter and has acquired a sheen over the years. Its face is laughing and its hair is ash blonde. We joke about it and say that people will think that we are into witchcraft. My dad talks about it protecting him on the road (because it normally hangs in his minivan) and I think he might half believe it. The significance of the head is to represent the study of cultures, and to remind me that when somebody else’s culture seems repugnant, adding mine to the mix can make things worse. It also represents my own irreverence toward all things supernatural, because nothing could be less sinister than a silly apple, even if it looks kind of creepy. Watch

This pocket watch represents my travels to Europe. It is silver and the cover depicts the Eiffel Tower. The word Paris is embossed onto it in cursive. It has floral and beaded detailing around its face. The numerals are Arabic and its hands are lightweight and simple. I bought this watch at Versailles when I was nine years old. On that occasion, I went to France with my family and we saw the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Versailles, Beaune, Nimes, and Carcassonne. The rich history of the French Revolution impressed me because I kept thinking about the guillotine, which killed the nobles whose images I viewed and whose homes I visited. On my second trip to Europe, I went alone as a nineteen-year-old student. I studied in Berlin at Humboldt University. Everywhere I went, there were remnants of the Holocaust. After that shocking experience, I traveled to Strasbourg by train to visit friends. My hosts and I watched the July 14 fireworks, even though there had been terrorism in Nice the year before. From Strasbourg, I took the high-speed train to Paris and visited the catacombs, the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre and Montmartre. While I was in Paris, I stayed with wealthy friends of my Strasbourg hosts. They were nice to me. I felt like I was their daughter. They had an impressive house and the whole downstairs was just for me. I had a super fancy bathroom. For dinner we had sausage or something. Afterwards, they asked me if I liked cheese and I said yes, so they brought me a huge selection of cheeses, all of which I sampled, despite being lactose intolerant! Later, I was glad to have the downstairs suite to myself. Anyway, the significance of this watch is to remind me of a history that is so much bigger and more horrifying than what I can normally mentally process. It also reminds me of my ability to act outside of my comfort zone. Bear Claw

In Indigenous cultures, especially here in British Columbia, bear claws represent protection, leadership, strength and healing (The Ancient Symbol, 2020). This bear claw was given to my mom by an Indigenous man in Pemberton. The base of the claw is amber-coloured, whereas the portion that protruded from the paw is charcoal-coloured. It is curved and has a slight hump on the inside. It resembles a dead fish with its head cut off. It is roughly an inch and a half long. The pointed end could definitely tear you to bits. The man who gave it to my mom had watched her band play at the pub, and they had conversed during the band’s break. At the end of the night, the fellow presented her with this bear claw, which is hardly what she would wear for jewelry, because she is not partial to hunting, but she sensed his generosity and sincerity and so she thanked him and kept the bear claw with a feeling of respect and gratitude. This bear claw is significant because it reminds us that we are very fortunate if we are welcomed by Indigenous people and it reminds us to look at their gifts through their cultural lens and not our own. My Dad’s Tooth

This is my dad’s tooth. I am not sure what type of tooth it is. It might be a wisdom tooth. It is rotten and disgusting. You can see dried up blood and black tooth decay. It is roughly 3/4 of an inch long. Luckily, it does not stink. This tooth is in my collection because I like gross things and I think every treasure chest should have at least one gross curiosity. This semester, I am studying anatomy, so body parts are important. This tooth is a reminder to maintain proper oral hygiene and to floss every night. People die from tooth abscesses and this is a stupid and avoidable way to die (if you come from a rich country). Hygiene practices are also especially important now in our current pandemic. My Cat

This is my cat, Shit Rock. He is black, white and gray and his back has a leopard pattern. His fur is thick, healthy, shiny and soft. He smells like nothing, which makes him so much better than a dog because dogs stink. I love him as though he were my child. At first, when he was a kitten and we rescued him from a barn at my aunt’s house, we used to call him Bubbi, and that is his name at the vet. But Shit Rock is his real name, and this is stolen from the Trailer Park Boys, whose character, Bubbles, is a cat lover. The Trailer Park Boys are icons of Canadian counterculture whom I like for their comedy, irreverence, and Canadian-ness. They also like Rush! Shit Rock is a naughty little kitty, but he has a sweet side as well. He can bite, scratch, and growl when he is hungry or wants to go outside. When he is outside, he likes to cross the road to play with his other kitty friend, which is dangerous. His sweet side comes out when he is full and sleepy. He cuddles, kneads, licks, and purrs on the fluffy blanket on my bed. My Great Grandma’s Silverware

This is my great grandmother’s silverware, which she received as a wedding gift in the 1930’s. She did not use the three sets that remain in the original packaging. The box in which the knife set is housed is blue with vintage lettering. The cardboard is frail and thin. The knife handles are plastic, but they look like yellowed ivory. The spoons are dark and tarnished. The significance of the silverware is to remind me of my father’s Mennonite family history. The Mennonites were expelled from Germany and Russia and other Slavic countries and they dispersed through North America and South America from the 1870’s through the World Wars (The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica, 2019). My father’s maternal relatives settled in Altona, Manitoba in the 1870’s, whereas his paternal relatives escaped from Siberia and came to Canada during World War I. The Mennonites were pacifists and although my father is irreligious, he has kept this trait. He once had a conversation with a Dutch serviceman, my mom’s step-cousin, whom he told, “If I were called to war, I would tell my government to shoot me before I would ever kill anybody.” The cousin seemed favourably impressed. As for the unused silverware, it speaks of frugality, of saving things for a more important time that never arrived. This stinginess also translated into a parenting style that involved a lot of disapproval, the tone of which got less toxic with each passing generation. (I am not making this up… Just read a Miriam Toews book.)

My Letters/Postcards from Antonia

In 2012, I met a German girl named Antonia on Twitter. We shared an interest in One Direction, a British boy band. We became very good friends and decided to start writing each other real, snail-mail letters. I have kept her letters in a box in my room. It is funny to reread them and remember my tween years. I have studied German since the ninth grade, and to this day, Antonia and I practice English/German with each other. I met her in person in 2018, when I studied abroad in Berlin, and she was just as lovely as I could have imagined. Antonia took an airplane from Bavaria to spend a day with me. We attended an anti-neo Nazi protest. It was a wonderful day. This photo shows a Christmas card she sent me in 2019, and a few postcards too. The Christmas card has a Christmas tree made of glitter on the front and on the inside, she put little dashes of glitter too. The postcards are from Prague, Berlin, and Salzburg. The postcards represent the acquisition of language and cross-cultural exchange. They also represent two parallel comings of age on separate continents: when we first met, we only had a boy band in common, but when we met in person, we had enough in common politically to join a protest together. My TI-84

My TI-84 is a black, rectangular instrument, about 6 by 2 inches, with a lot of intimidating buttons, all of which have three functional levels. It has an LED screen with intimidating, primitive text in its display. The cover has my name and hearts on it, which I did with White Out during one of my math classes. The back bears a sticker of Jack Black from Tenacious D. My TI-84 graphs functions, and finds their roots, maxima, minima, derivatives, and antiderivatives. It can calculate probabilities for normal, t, chi square, F, binomial, Poisson, and geometric probability distributions. It can perform a wide range of statistical tests. It multiplies matrices, calculates trigonometric values, and is handy with logarithms. I got a C in calculus but an A in statistics. I hate math, but I know it matters. For example, statistical studies have changed the United Nations’ policies on awarding aid. They found that giving money to women in impoverished nations ensured that children would be fed, whereas awarding the same money to men did not result in the feeding of children (United Nations, 2020). Another example of math being important socially is the mathematics of exponential growth, which describes the inequality generated by the capitalistic financial system and which also describes the spread of diseases, like Covid-19. Projection models for the spread of disease help public health officials decide policies. The Province 2008 Newspaper

My last curiosity is a 2008 Province newspaper announcing Barack Obama’s presidential win. It is torn on the backside, permanently folded, yellow, and fading. It stinks a little bit. Obama looks young in this photo compared to now, even though the time since then has gone by very fast. Why should I care whom Americans elect? Well, everything they do affects us; economically, militaristically, culturally, etc. I get very sick of watching their TV and seeing their flags on everything. Pierre Elliott Trudeau said in a 1969 interview with President Nixon: “Living next to you is in some ways like sleeping with an elephant. No matter how friendly and even-tempered is the beast, if I can call it that, one is affected by every twitch and grunt" (MacMillan, 2018). This was true when Nixon was in power and it is most certainly true now. I was happy when Obama was elected. I believe that he did his best; however, America is just too far gone. Maybe in many generations to come, they will have free health care. More likely, the country will dissolve into two factions. Or maybe both of these things have already happened somewhat. Now we have Trump, The Proud Boys, and an out-of-control pandemic, and most of Canada’s cases have come from America (Tumilty, 2020).

Thematic Analysis

One theme that recurred in my collection was that of irreverence, even though this was not deliberate in my choice of objects. My kitty is named Shit Rock, which is so off-colour as to be unmentionable at the vet’s office. He is named after the Trailer Park Boys whose humour is founded upon stupidity, drug dealing, and failure. My calculator did not escape unscathed because it bears a sticker of Jack Black in his Tenacious D persona. Tenacious D sings vulgarities with operatic enthusiasm. The apple head is a standing family joke that pokes fun at a creepy looking thing with complete disregard for supernatural associations. Finally, the silverware reminds me of my paternal Mennonite roots and my reasons for wanting to shake them off. As the above thematic links diagram shows, many of the sub-themes that my objects brought to mind are interconnected. However, now I will try to lift another theme out of the objects’ functions. Five of the objects function as memory enhancement. The newspaper stores and helps us recall events of a particular period, in this case the 2008 American election. The TI-84 stores, remembers, and manipulates more mathematical data than any good math student can hold in her head. The watch not only acts as a mnemonic device to help me remember my travels, but it also keeps track of time. The Rush album generates music, which transports its listeners to the time when the music was new, and in this way, it also enhances memory. The letters/postcards serve as a reminder of a long friendship and constitute a written record of two girls’ transition from childhood to adulthood.

References:

Ankeny, J. (2020). Rush: Biography & History. AllMusic. https://www.allmusic.com/artist/rush-mn0000203008/biography.

Hemingway, E. (1957). A Farewell to Arms. New York: Scribner.

MacMillan, M. (2018, June 15). Sleeping with a very cranky elephant: The history of Canada-U.S. tensions | CBC Radio. CBCnews. https://www.cbc.ca/radio/sunday/the-sunday-edition-june-17-2018-1.4692469/sleeping-with-a-very-cranky-elephant-the-history-of-canada-u-s-tensions-1.4699017.

Peart, N. (1977). Closer to the Heart - Farewell to Kings. Thornhill, Canada: Anthom Records

Santillan, J. (2020, March 27). 8 Disturbing Facts About Real Shrunken Heads. TheCollector. https://www.thecollector.com/shrunken-heads/.

The Ancient Symbol. (2020). Native American Bear Symbol. https://theancientsymbol.com/collections/native-american-bear-symbol.

The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica. (2019). Mennonite. Encyclopædia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/topic/Mennonite.

Tumilty, R. (2020, April 30). Canada's early COVID-19 cases came from the U.S. not China. Healthing.ca. https://www.healthing.ca/diseases-and-conditions/coronavirus/canadas-early-covid-19-cases-came-from-the-u-s-not-china.

United Nations. (2020). Reduce inequality within and among countries – United Nations Sustainable Development. United Nations. https://www.un.org/sustainabledevelopment/inequality/.

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geminimoonbeamx · 7 years

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Moving into your first apartment with Isaac/ plus size reader

-Kind of a really big thing for you, since you've always been such a private and independent person but Isaac thinks it's the only thing that makes sense. "Y/N, I spend most of my time at your place anyway. Now I'll always have clean boxers" he points out with a snigger. -it's true, you're always at your little studio(his roommate Boyd is cool but you and Isaac like to fuck. Loudly, and without inhibitions) -So you decide, screw it. You'll get a bigger place and rent will be easier because it will be split between the two of you. -Plus you guys have been together for almost two years and it's just a natural progression, right? -The little townhouse you guys rent in the heart of Beacon Hills is cute as fuck. -In one of the older buildings, think exposed brick sheek. -Moving sucks ass. Even if he is all cute and manly and Scott and Boyd help get all of your boxes and your new furniture into the two story tow home. Lydia and Styles show up later with take out and in return for them being "the shittiest friends" and not helping. -Lydia had gone apartment hunting with the two of you, obviously and she had fallen in love with this place. "If our lease was up, I swear I would have fought you for this place" -Isaac is more then down with you taking the reigns in decorating(as long as he gets to have his speakers and game system on display in the living room) -The floors are hard wood and you naturally run cold so your feet freeze 24/7 until you fill the space with rugs. Furry and plush. Faux fur obvi. -lots of neutral colors that accent the leather arms/frame of your couches. Modern but homey. -Isaac likes it. A lot. It makes the lay out warm with out making it stuffy. Even though you guys don't bring up his claustrophobia, you both know it affects the shit out of him. -big ol' wall length entertainment center because your both nerds. No seriously though-between both of your combined dvd and video game collections it's almost ridiculous. -but that's one of you guys favorite past times. Watching movies/shows together -Netflix sessions that last days. No joke. Like when you binge watched all twelve seasons of Greys Anatomy. -He likes to lay on top of your soft body and let you hold him. He love that your bigger in these moments because you're so fucking comfortable, your large breasts are his favorite pillows and he buries his head in them. -he's the biggest man child you've ever met. Honestly make him food and play with his hair and he is your loyal servant forever. -seriously tho did I mention you guys are giant nerds? Definitely that couple where if one of you watches you guys show without the other it is blatant betrayal. "Come on baby, I literally just watched one episode, don't be mad at me" you coo as you wrap your arms around his slim middle, but he shrugs out of your grasp. "Did Rick kill Negan? Did Maggie go into labor? I can't believe you watched it without me. I spent the day suffering at work looking forward to coming home and finishing it with you and you didn't even wait for me" -Isaac loves home cooked meals. Like no joke the way to this mans heart is through his stomach and your chubby ass knows how to cook . -He thanks you everytime you bring him a hot plate, child like. "Gimme' a kiss" -HOLIDAYS -Halloween you guys carve jack o lanterns and dress up and greet trick'or'treaters at the door and watch movies like Halloweentown and Hocus Pokus. Isaacs not a huge fan of horror because he says it's cheesy but he loves old Disney movies. -You guys end up going to your parents for Thanksgiving as usual but you make a kick ass pumpkin cheese cake from scratch in your guys kitchen beforehand. -Christmas is special. It's not your first together but it's your first in your shared place. You go to the lot and pick out a real tree and deck it completely out in silvers and golds. You kind of go all out with decorating in general and your apartment looks something like the Christmas section of Target threw up in it. Isaac loves it. You guys even have a fireplace for you to hang up stockings on. -Did you guys know Isaac can not only bake, but bake very fucking well? -Christmas cookies all December long. All kinds. You both gain a lot of Holiday weight. -when he spills a little bit of the dough, coating his big hands, you lick it off of his long fingers sucking on each digit just a moment to long. Your bright y/e/c looking up at him mischievously. -he burns that batch, not bothering to take the cookies out of the oven as he fucks you on the kitchen table. "you're such a fucking naughty girl" he hisses into your shoulder. "Mmm, I know you like me better naughty than nice" -You guys totally throw an ugly Christmas sweater party and everyone comes. And Lydia helps you decorate all day and Derek makes his secret family recipe spiked eggnog that fucks everyone up severely. Okay that's all for now but best believe I will continue lol

#isaac lahey #plus size reader #imagine #teen wolf imagine

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